#family portrait [selves]

[king-of-the-birds]

"I’m not sure I do feel I belong to myself. There are two sides to me. (...) I’m very conscious of my duality in lots of ways, sort of like a split personality. I’m always conscious of that debate between the two selves. Like black/white, day/night, dull/bright." - Paul [Guardian, 2001]

"I'm trying for music that isn't too romantic, yet contains a romantic thing. I personally don't like things to be too cute - except babies. My music comes off best, I think, when there's hard and soft together." - Paul [1971]

"When you’re a kid you think things will be straightforward, but when you’re older and you’ve experienced more, you realise it’s an everlasting war between good and bad." - Paul in The Lyrics

The other me would rather be the glad one The other me would rather play the fool But I want to be the kind of me That doesn't let you down as a rule "The Other Me" [written in 1982]

Paul has an artistic side that isn't level-headed, and I like that. Most of his down-to-earthiness comes from living with a good family. He was taught good values. His inner talent is just there. He also has his mad side, but he saves it for home. His mind is amazing. Although his roots are earthy, he's up in the sky on other things. - Linda [1989]

“Paul is like a beautiful two-headed monster." - Donovan [Mojo interview, 2008]

"I mean I love the idea that there are two people in my head. Well, at least two."  - Paul in The Lyrics

Self portrait by Paul McCartney

[kisskiss-slashslash]

Slashers & artist s/o

Plz

There you go! <3

Slashers with an artist s/o

Jason Voorhees

He loves watching you draw, and sometimes he gets really excited and shows you things he wants you to draw, from the scenery around the lake to the animals that are living in the forest you call home.

Whenever people get the genius idea to reopen the camp and are then disposed off the Jason way, he goes through the cabins and gathers up all of the art supplies that had been meant for the kids and gives them to you. These supplies often only consist of cheap, low-quality pencils, watercolors and crayons, but it is a sweet gesture nonetheless.

Vincent Sinclair

Kindred soul spotted. He is so happy that he finally has someone around who shares his passion for art. He doesn‘t mind sharing tools and supplies with you; he knows that you will treat everything with care and create beautiful things with it. He‘ll even set up a small atelier for you in his workshop, so you can spend time together while you go about your artsy business.

Freddy Krueger

You offhandedly mention that the dreams he sends you are great inspiration, and he is immediately intrigued. Freddy isn‘t an artistic guy by any means, but he can appreciate your work nonetheless, especially any drawing or painting that might give off a violent and/or sexual vibe.

Bubba Sawyer

Oh! You‘re an artist? Just like Nubbins?

Honestly his older brother is the only real contact Bubba has ever had with anything that could even be vaguely referred to as art. He is a bit surprised that you can do art without killing people or robbing graves. That‘s great, it means you don‘t have to put yourself in danger to do what you love!

He eventually asks you if you could paint a family portrait of him, his brothers and his grandpa.

Brahms Heelshire

„Draw me! No, wait, draw us both together!“

He sits next to you while you work, watching as the drawing slowly takes shape. While he doesn‘t like how drawing takes attention away from him, it‘s still something you can do while he is right next to you, so that‘s good.

He loves the little details you may add, the small points of contact of your drawn selves.

After the drawing is done, you put the sketchbook aside and go to bed. When you look at the sketchbook again, the drawing is gone, and you will find it later, taped above Brahms‘ bed in his hideout, so he can always look at it.

[pinchinschlimbah]

Still thinking about this article and also generally what we've seen of the new Dick Turpin series so far and was suddenly struck with a realization. Themes of queerness and gender nonconformity have always been present in Noel's work, but this really feels like the first time where those themes are the overall POINT of a media he's created rather than incidental.

Dick himself is heavily traditionally queer coded, both in his interests/character traits (fashion design, knitting, tea, crossdressing, the color purple, kindness and emotional intelligence, encouraging those around them to also be their most flamboyant and authentic selves etc) and the way others react to him because of it- much of the tension of the first two episodes comes from Dick's father and Leslie both looking down on Dick for not acting in ways they deem to be what a real man is like, and Dick being described as "strange" and "creative" feel practically like euphemisms not to mention him literally being called names like "foppy tit" to discredit his abilities as a highwayman.

In the first 30 minute episode alone we have 3 major characters (Dick, Moose, and Nell) presenting in gender-nonconforming ways. When we are originally introduced to the Essex gang, their leader Tom King immediately kills the most outwardly queer person in the group for no real reason, and the rest of the gang later admits that they hated Tom's oppressive and callous leadership style and start to come out of their shells more once they get to know Dick. Dick's first course of action before anything else is to help the gang be their most authentic selves- he encourages Moose to embrace his emotional nature by speaking about his feelings and then to embrace his femininity by making custom dresses for him AND in a bit of a throwaway line Dick admits that he once spent an entire year wearing dresses himself! While the reveal that Nell has been pretending to be a man initially comes as Dick saying he thinks its cool if she wants to dress as a man, it appears he also ends up giving her the safety and confidence to realize that she's still the toughest one in the group, disguise or not! So far Honesty feels like he just needed someone to generally look up to and show him what can be possible, but I'm hoping we'll get a more in depth arc from him in the future episodes. Everyone is given stylish new outfits to make them feel powerful and then brought out to show them off and get a portrait done together- already a bonded found family who'd risk their lives for each other! And episode 2, where were left at so far, ends with an indication that others in the highwayman community are becoming interested in Dick's softer kinder way of doing things.... It makes perfect sense to me that now, while promoting a show where the whole central messaging is that you can find success through creativity, compassion, authenticity, and of course a bit of panache, rather than adhering to old fashioned violent and restrictive societal expectations, we've gotten one of the clearest statements yet about Noel's relationship with his own gender, and I'm very excited to see where else this series might take us!

[sea-owl]

Evil Bridgerton AU: The Original Spouses’ Happy Ending

Simon: Amelia’s birth was when he snapped, Daphne was desperate for a boy and he isn’t gonna let her have one. He led her on though, then made her THINK he’s having an affair that drove her mad. She threatened baby Amelia and Simon pushed her out the window, accidentally as he was fighting to get Amelia away from her. She sounded up dying but fortunately with his power, not even the Bridgertons were able to take revenge on him. Kate: She killed Anthony. Unfortunately, Kate couldn’t prevent herself marrying The Viscount after he got his hands on her in the gardens and threatened her about her sister and mother. It didn’t help how easily he can ruin her if she didn’t become his Viscountess. So she did. She had children with him, she let him play with her until finally she began playing the game… she wasn’t gonna let her children be like their father and uncles and aunts. With some help from Simon, she managed to kill Anthony and was allowed to raise her children in the country side in peace.

Sophie: She made her escape, winning the chase as she got on the ship to leave for abroad for a new. Sophie was however pregnant with Benedict’s child but it didn’t stop her from making a new life for herself. Benedict spiralled downwards into insanity at the loss of his Sophie, he looked everywhere for her but was never able to find her. He spend the rest of his life painting and sketching portraits of her, until his death.

Penelope: With the help of Portia, Penelope managed to get the upper hand and wrote her way out of Colin’s grasp. She outwitted him after acting all meek and scared as he went on and on of all the sins he committed that he can’t wait to ruin her. She would later write everything he did, gathering all the evidence and making connections, exposing him in the ballroom with her new allies. Colin was shunned by society as he was forced to leave.

Philip: After Marina’s death and Eloise’s advances, Philip can’t help but get a really bad feeling about this. He gave her a benefit of a doubt, her manipulating him as he was already in a vulnerable mindset. It wasn’t until his children tell him that Ms. Eloise scares them that he starts investigating and he realized that Eloise murdered Marina. Eloise gains the upper hand, threatening his children as she tries to put herself over him… it was then he tells her that he written to Penelope and given her evidence on Eloise’s crime and unless she doesn’t go back to London in time… Eloise entire family would be ruined. Eloise did that but it was too late, her reputation was shattered.

Oh these are all nice! I never know if I want them to get all the way to marriage before the reincarnation. I'm not that mean and I have to have some mercy incase we get memories back.

But I also think it just be poetic in a way. The Bridgertons try so hard as their evil selves but in the world where they're nice and good. They genuinely win over their loves who they genuinely love in return.

[iridescentscarecrow]

self indulgent semi critical stream of consciousness thoughts on p2 & csm's writing style --

re: the comedy point: i do say this a lot but fujimoto uses the same tension for both comedy & horror -- the punchline of a Joke disrupts just as a rupture of tension -> horror occurs. & this is why i appreciate the writing last chapter, personally. the crassness/hilarity to it almost contributes to how i'm reading it. he hates his body/the body becomes a point of comedic objection. this kind of relies on being able to see how this meshing of telling & character overlap: which i find q. compelling re: how sexual trauma works, the way it kind of deprecates, lessens your sense of self. it's a story very lived in & deeply Felt wrt how all its characters are written (the butt of the joke refuses to simply Be that, if it makes sense. kobeni's distress in the family burger chs is hilarious but its also a haunting, empathetic, portrait of corporate/family violence; comedy further built on the hollowness of what the CSM being there/going through This Motion means.)

this for sure won't work for every reader, tbh, & i understand this because it's a fine line to tread between portraying this effectively & it just coming off as insensitive. i'm personally very interested in genres & working within genres|how horror/comedy/character presentations conflict, intersect so i'm enjoying it... but it's true that p2 often feels hollower of a story than p1 & this isn't Bad, per se: i think what fjmt is trying to say is a lot more ambitious, a lot more immersed in technique - that it often takes away from some of the contemplative rawness (which does, by contrast, feature in some of p2's more widely loved chapters) that fills p1. p2's ruptures of tension are more at the forefront, a lot of the frame behind it is *so* based on minimal technical nuance that it doesn't really nestle onto you in the same way, if that makes sense? i'm mostly positive about plot elements on main but i've been eyeing the asa erasure with skepticism for a while. it's really a much weaker story without her, no matter what thematic point that i think is being made here. i mean, perhaps because when you deplete the asa to the story you're left with denji - who is mostly *passive*, doesn't produce narrative (unlike asa/makima) which writes the story for you. denji's brilliance is in spurts, contrasted/set against other character's selves - often in refutation of them - in a desperate kind of <proof of life>, of having been imbued with thus written experience, of this being so deeply felt - & this is what gets to fans too, i feel. his life as visible through <written> form/against, caught within structure & other's wants. this is also why i think those nayuta chapters (as an extension of mkm) were so great because of what it did for nayuta & denji. you see him through her eyes, & then you see *him.* i think the issue with asa is that a large amt of her character also has like a (similar to denji) self hate, a repression which makes itself known very well when we're inside her head but atp rn we can't see that at all, because she's modelled herself (& i think this is rlly cool narratively) around the idea of the CSM she's meant to work as an extension of. & this self modelling paired w. being Out of her head makes her feel (to me) awfully flat. & this is upsetting, because i really like asa!

but at some levels i appreciate the ambition to p2's greater story that i can forgive individual characters being diluted in the fray. but this isn't true for everyone | shouldn't even be because csm is a story *felt* through its characters, within its absurdity... the reason most people like it is because aspects of it resonate with them. & this kind of jarr is pretty much fjmt's biggest writing issue - it's what i've personally criticised / seen others criticise w. p1 (power's character's writing towards the end) & it's why i see people rightfully criticise p2.

this is already a very self indulgent thread so i'm also going to bring up *why* i like characters such as reze, makima, togata: their character presentation compels enough to really intertwine with the flesh of them in ways that are... kind of hard to ignore to fully receive the story. if that makes sense: their surface is so much condensed trope.. in fact, this is true of even aki who i think i'd argue is the best written character in p1 functioning outside the (makima-denji) centre w. the revenge trope.

anyway: it's kind of also because of these reasons that i feel that p2 will just *work* better when read as a whole,, because of the frame fjmt has himself set up it becomes a little difficult to resonate w. it in individual moment, chapter to chapter, because atp you have to either be (a) incredibly aware of this larger structure which is... difficult to do for a weekly release at least to sustain a good amt of immersion or (b) recognise the narrative that emanates from trauma reltd. mechanism & since this is more personal: it's harder to find yourself here & it becomes.. disconnected, frustrating moment after moment where it becomes not just a <character work> but a <one character work>. & i find this hits in these instances w. people who empathise w. denji as do i! but i find little discussion of this as Implication rippling into story structure (although fjmt's story is built on/into his main character as it was in p1)... it's Hard without a writing force like mkm to make denji cohere into a largely invisible narrative.

honestly could talk more about this for ages:: even wrt. my issues with like... a large amount of the back half of Fire Punch which don't come from a place of thematic incoherency at all. i legit feel fujimoto needs a frame for his story to work <within instance> & i see him trying to bring in katana etc. here (& other male characters) in order to deploy what he's saying but their framings don't.. linger enough to really grip into you as Story imo. the single family callback into p1 makima shook me far more.

wishful thought but i think asa's head would be interesting to get into because we *have* yuko there as meaningful setup in order to really direction... i loved the yuko dialogue use in 165 but her ghost feels. Almost too subtle rn, imo. this is just like,,, a small portion of my thoughts regarding p2 & its criticisms rn;; bear in mind, i really like/hold bias towards the themes p2 is playing with [concurrs a lot w. my interests] but i also really enjoy going on & on about storytelling technique LMAO. i'm looking forward to seeing how this arc concludes.

[demadogs]

Do you know any good wlw movies/ TV shows on netflix? I've watched a few, I am not ok with this, Carol, duck butter, but im LESBIAN DEPRIVED!

~���

YOU AND ME BOTH GIRLY.

unfortunately almost all my favorite sapphic shows have been canceled especially the ones on netflix but i do still think theyre worth your time. but it might also kill you bc the story isnt finished. all these shows are also just amazing plots too. like i would love them just as much even if there wasnt wlw relationships.

heres what i got for shows but not all of these are on netflix.

the wilds. this is an AMAZING SHOW. its on amazon its about a staged plane crash where 8 girls are stuck on an island but they dont know that its all a fucked up social experiment. a lesbian relationship became established before it got canceled after s2.

cable girls. this is on netflix and it actually DIDNT GET CANCELED HALLELUJAH. its an amazing show but it actually doesnt really count as sapphic bc one of the characters in the wlw relationship ends up being trans. but its still a great queer love. this shows spanish and set in late 1920s madrid at a telephone company. its one of my favorite shows ever literally every season is better than the last plz watch it.

everything sucks. this is on netflix and it did get canceled but the lesbian relationship was mostly established before the end of the first season. its set in the 90s and its just a really cute show im mad it got canceled.

paper girls. this is on amazon and ngl this is one of the most painful sapphic show cancelations ive ever suffered through so if you dont wanna watch it just bc of that i dont blame you. its about these four young girls who accidentally time travel from the 80s to current day and meet their future selves. the gay girlies are heavily implied and foreshadowed but they dont get together before the end of the show :(

the last of us!!! not canceled its still going!! this show has an episode that shows a past sapphic relationship with the lesbian main character but the first season doesnt introduce a new relationship yet. the second season will tho. im sure youve heard about this or already watched it but its about a zombie-like pandemic from a deadly fungus and its total post apocalyptic. also AMAZING found family father/daughter trope. dare i say i actually think i like them more than el and hopper.

i really need to find more great sapphic movies.

my favorite lesbian movie of all time is portrait of a lady on fire. its a french period piece and its just beautiful and THERE ARE LIKE ZERO MEN IN THE WHOLE MOVIE. i think the only line a man has is “bonjour” and thats it. MY KINDA MOVIE!!!!! INSTANT 5 STARS!!!!! i love this movie. the initial premise is that a woman needs to be painted but she cant know that shes being painted so the other woman has to just study her while hanging out and then paint her from memory. it ends up being much more than that but gaaahhh if you only watch one of these make it this movie.

another iconic sapphic movie is but im a cheerleader. way different tone much less dramatic and more comedy but still never gets old.

you didnt mention books but im gonna give you book recs anyway.

seven husbands of evelyn hugo!!!!!!! im sure youve heard about this. i dont think its overrated at all it really was such a good book and dont let the title fool you its gay as hell. if youre really not a reader tho this is going to be a netflix movie soon.

an amazing duo book series is criers war. i LOVE scifi and fantasy and this is my favorite sapphic scifi story ive ever read/watched. i want this to be a movie or show so bad. its about a world where some people are people and some are what they refer to as “automa” which are essentially cyborgs but they look just like humans. crier is an automa and the daughter of a king and ayla is a poor human and she has a vendetta against crier bc her father was responsible for her familys murder but crier doesnt know this! so then ayla gets the job as her maid for the goal of killing her basically but of course it gets super gay instead. its such an interesting take on the enemies to lovers trope bc its one sided, cryer has no idea ayla considers her her enemy. also neither of them are white i think crier is brown and ayla is black.

i hope you like these! and if anybody else has lesbian story recs plz put it in the replies or rbs cuz i also need more lesbian content!!!

[larmegliamori]

OCxCanon Week, Day 1: Historical

@theocxcanonweek

Michael "III" Arclight (canon) X Hoshiko Kazama (OC)

This prompt is just too good to pass it on.

In Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal, some character have a canon past life before reincarnating into their current selves. That's not really the case for the Arclights, but it would interesting for them to have one (they're tied to the Barians -the characters with canon past lives- so it wouldn't be too far-fetched). And that's what made me work with this prompt!

My timeframe of choice for historical costumes is the Renaissance (1470-90s especially), mostly because its family dramas fits both Michael and Hoshiko's stories and it would be nice to see them both move into such rich and interesting centuries for my country. It also gave me plenty of art references to work with.

I loved the idea of couple portraits (think of the Duke and Duchess of Urbino diptych), hence the similar background and poses. For the clothes and hairdo, I took inspiration from Florence fashion for Michael and Venice fashion for Hoshiko, tweaking them to suit my needs.

I also used a different painting style for this pieces: I worked without lineart and with big blotches of colors, which was hard, but also very fun!

I hope you enjoy these portraits! Now I just have to work on a possible story to accompany them... I already have a couple names at the ready...

[skinnerhousebooks]

Groundbreaking in its depictions of joy and community, Authentic Selves celebrates trans and nonbinary people and their families in stunning photographs and their own words. Foreword by transgender activist Jazz Jennings and her mom and fellow activist, Jeanette Jennings. Developed in collaboration with PFLAG National and Transgender Legal Defense & Education Fund. It's available wherever books are sold and from inSpirit: The UU Book and Gift Shop at shopinspirit.org.

So often trans and nonbinary people’s stories are told only through the lens of their struggles and challenges, including their political battles for legal rights, but trans and nonbinary people live rich and fulfilling lives full of joy and community too. Authentic Selves: Celebrating Trans and Nonbinary People and Their Families is a sweeping compilation of life stories and portraits of trans and nonbinary people, as well as their partners, parents, children, siblings, and chosen family members.

The compelling stories in Authentic Selves provide a glimpse into the real lives, both the challenges and the triumphs, of these remarkable people and their families—people like Senator Sarah McBride, disability justice advocate Parker Glick, drag entertainer TAYLOR ALXNDR, September 11th first responder Jozeppi Angelo Morelli, model Lana Patel, youth activist Elliott Bertrand, and so many others—all of whom are working to create a more just, diverse, and compassionate world.

[catbells-and-summerlinens]

...I am out with lanterns, looking for myself

I love rewatching OFMD because there is just always some new detail to notice, or a new association to make. I've always loved this haunting painting of Mary's, but it struck me anew on a recent watch-through.

[Screenshot courtesy of @mondfahrt, thank you!]

I couldn't stop thinking about the Emily Dickinson line "I am out with lanterns, looking for myself” **, and about how it's such a lovely symbolic image for the show's core themes:

No wonder Mary's painting depicts this figure doing just that - she's just been freed from the suffocation of being in a stilted arranged marriage. She's probably experiencing the most autonomy she's ever had in her entire life while she paints this figure. It may even be a self-portrait (see @mondfahrt's lovely post), perhaps depicting her own symbolic journey of self-discovery. (I adore her for not giving this up on this journey just because Stede decides to un-abandon his family!)

Stede and Ed are also both "out with lanterns" searching for their more genuine selves. They've both been living under heavy, suffocating cloaks of social expectations and in one another, they finally find a safe place to shrug off those prescribed expectations in favor of curiosity, novelty, and risk.

They are also serving as mutual witnesses to one another's self-discovery, which is so vulnerable because it's a such messy, chaotic process (even if you're not a pirate on the run from the British Navy!). But it's also fucking gorgeous, because they get to do this together. That's what makes my brain zap and inspire a sudden hunger for drywall - Ed and Stede are falling in love with the freshly awakened, authentic self of the other one! It's magical! It gives me a pit in my stomach!

My last thought it how paradoxical this all is. Of course, if you're the one out there with the lantern, well there you are! I'm getting Ruby Slipper vibes - we really have everything we need right here within ourselves, and we've had it the whole time. We always have the ability to be a little bit more authentic, more honest, more "ourselves". But, we first have to venture out into a dark field, with only a small lantern in hand to find out what we're really made of and who we really are. Ed and Stede had to make their intertwined journeys through the darkness to end up at what might seem like an obvious answer once they're settled down at The Inn: "Oh, of course this is who I am, of course you're you, and of course we're together."

**OK, funnily enough, I just learned that this line is not from some stunning poem by Dickinson, but rather a letter to friend where's she's complaining about the chaos of recently moving to a new home, ha.

[mrmallard]

I know the song Superman (It's Not Easy) by Five for Fighting is like metaphorically comparing the struggles of the narrator with that of Superman - being a figure who's expected to be seen as invincible and infallible, heavily implied to be like a new parent who wants to give their kid everything, but having struggles and anxieties that they wrestle with to provide that illusion and fill that mythical role. Yes, I am an immovable rock who will never shatter - but men weren't meant to fly with clouds between their knees. I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane. Even heroes have the right to bleed.

But it works so well because it's such a great portrait of Superman himself. He too is only a man. He dreams. He's bold and heroic and fantastic, but he understands the frailty of human life and he knows that he's just one guy trying his best. He's just as much the man in the song as he is the figure who the figure is comparing himself to.

He does a lot of good, but he's still Clark Kent, the man who reminisces fondly about his deceased dad. He's Clark Kent, the guy who gets along with Lois Lane and who would take both halves of the world and hold them together under the sheer magnitude of his strength if it were falling apart around her. Now, he could probably physically do that - but it's the weight of how he feels about her that matters. It's something he shares with all of us at our most idyllic selves, with the fantastical element of actually being able to make good on his promise if he needs to - but he's still Clark Kent, the man. He still worries, and regardless of his supernatural ability to help them if he absolutely needs to, he still fiercely wants the people he loves to be okay.

Everything that makes Superman special is - for the last labored lyrical reference in this Tumblr post - the special things he's looking for inside of himself. He works as the impossible figure of a hero that a person might always strive to meet, to keep his family happy and comfortable and safe while keeping up the facade, but CLARK KENT IS ALSO THE GUY. HE'S A GUY. HE'S GOT A HEART PUMPING BLOOD AND EVERYTHING THAT'S AWESOME ABOUT YOU AND ME.

So like the song is a great case study of a man trying to live up to impossible standards and become infallible, which is fallacious and impossible by the narrator's own admission due to the human flaws that are screaming to come out against his efforts to be that sort of figure, but it's an outstanding case study of Superman as the man and the myth. The pretty face beside a train and the guy who acknowledges that men like him aren't meant to fly above the clouds.

And the weight to which I feel that this song exemplifies the duality of Superman so well is only exacerbated by the 10+ years of "what if someone killed Lois Lane and Superman became a fascist", or "what if Superman actually wasn't Superman but was actually Casual Murder Is Okay Man because real people would actually Commit Mass Murder if they were Superman", in almost every significant cultural depiction of Superman.

Like yeah, Evil Superman is a cool concept. But that's all he is to most people nowadays. If Evil Superman existed, who's SO MUCH COOLER and MORE INTERESTING than 1950's NUCLEAR FAMILY BOYSCOUT SUPERMAN, how would BATMAN have to KILL HIM????? Would he drop a KRYPTONITE MOON on him?????? It feels like that's all anyone says or feels about Superman any more.

So like, the song Superman (It's Not Easy) by Five for Fighting maybe isn't meant to be a commentary on the duality of Superman. Superman is explicitly a reference point, the narrator compares his efforts and struggles with the huge feats that Superman accomplishes despite the very human doubts and shortcomings that comes with being a guy in uncharted water who's just trying to do his best - but it's not explicitly "the guy is Clark Kent". It's just a metaphor for this regular-ass dude to vent his insecurities about being a supportive figure despite his insecurities. The comparison is invited, but it's not Literally a song about Clark Kent's relationship between himself and his persona of Superman. I'd even say that this is explicitly not the case.

But viewing it as being a comment on the duality of Superman, it's still one of the most cohesive and straightforward depictions of the guy in the last 20-ish years. It is a superb fucking song.

[haveyoureadthistransbook]

Authentic Selves: Celebrating Trans and Nonbinary People and Their Families by Peggy Gillespie

goodreads

Groundbreaking in its depictions of joy and community, Authentic Selves celebrates trans and nonbinary people and their families in stunning photographs and their own words. Foreword by transgender activist Jazz Jennings and her mom and fellow activist, Jeanette Jennings. So often trans and nonbinary people’s stories are told only through the lens of their struggles and challenges, including their political battles for legal rights, but trans and nonbinary people live rich and fulfilling lives full of joy and community too. Authentic Celebrating Trans and Nonbinary People and Their Families is a sweeping compilation of life stories and portraits of trans and nonbinary people, as well as their partners, parents, children, siblings, and chosen family members. The compelling stories in Authentic Selves provide a glimpse into the real lives, both the challenges and the triumphs, of these remarkable people and their families—people like Senator Sarah McBride, disability justice advocate Parker Glick, drag entertainer TAYLOR ALXNDR, September 11th first responder Jozeppi Angelo Morelli, model Lana Patel, youth activist Elliott Bertrand, and so many others—all of whom are working to create a more just, diverse, and compassionate world.

Mod opinion: I've only learned of this book through research for this blog, but it sounds interesting!

[torra-and-the-toons]

Do you have any interesting headcanons about the characters' families (the eds and the other kids)? I sometimes see more similar, recurring opinions, so I'm curious to hear any unusual or left field ideas.

I think I pretty much share the fandom headcanons, but honestly I'm not sure :0

I def think all three Eds have some form of abusive parents. Ed's parents are neglectful of Ed, and often listen to Sarah over him. Sarah gets a really nice room while Ed has the basement. When he doesn't do well in school they don't even try to work something out with him, they just send him to his Aunt. That coupled with my headcanon that Ed is Autistic, I just don't view his parents in a good light. They don't seem to want to help Ed through his learning disability, instead they seem to have already accepted failure.

More under the cut, for length

Double Dee's parent are just never there, as we've seen, only communicating with their son through sticky notes. They still have such high expectations of him with little interaction.

Now with Eddy, I get the feeling that his parents are the reason his bro ran away. They might seem fine on the surface, but I think there's a hidden layer of manipulative behavior going on here that could be very damaging. His own father's biggest concern is that he becomes a figure skater. HIS GREATEST CONCERN is over what his own son wants to do with his life like it's not his god damn job to support his kids in whatever they want to do.

Not only that but let's look at eddy's bro, shall we? We don't see any trace of him in the house besides his room. There's even a scene, I think in BPS but I could be wrong, where we pass a line of family portraits in Eddy's house and we see silhouettes of Eddy, his mom and dad... but no bro. His brother's room is also sealed off via wall paper from the rest of the house?? Like they were trying to hide it. His room is sealed off with bricks. Bricks over the window, which yea could be his bro being edgy, but the heating vent? I feel like his parents were the ones responsible for the bricks, to keep his bro from getting out of his own room. Especially after they find the heat vent bricks after pointing out that the vent could lead to an escape. Something not quite right is up with Eddy's parents, and I hope to be able to explore that in my fanfic tbh.

As for the other kids, I have less opinions on.

I saw a headcanon about Kevin's folks that they're split, and Kevin lives with his dad, I liked that one.

I feel like Rolf's family is very matriarchal, with how much he talks about his nana/ great nana etc.

Jimmy's family seems like the chillest of the bunch if they're actively supporting their son playing dress up and buying stuffed animals. In my version of their adult selves where Jimmy is NB, they actively support their kid with all their heart. Probably the best parents in the whole cul-de-sac.

Jonny's folks are probably hippies, life-loving folk who are just along for life's ride. They aren't bad to their son, but some people might see their carefree ways as such.

Let's be honest, the Kanker's mom is probably a hooker which is where the Kankers themselves learned that kind of behavior. Probably how the Kankers were born too lol. (for the record I don't have a negative opinion of sex workers. Do what ya gotta do n all that, queens and kings!)

Anyways this got so much longer than I anticipated, I hope I answered your question lmao 🙈

[hmmm-toastie]

Rosalyn Cambridge is ANOTHER VTM oc of mine who has been around but thoroughly neglected until recently.

She's an incredibly stereotypical Toreador at a surface level = artist, seductress, charismatic, dramatic etc, but below that she's incredibly cunning and much scrappier than she seems. Once upon a time she was from an aristocratic human family and a renowned artist who fell in love with the wrong man, was tossed aside by said man and then her family and instead of fading into obscurity she made it everyone else's problem.

Nowadays she doesn't create as much as she used to, and uses her resources to help other artists get the recognition they deserve. Her portraits are famed among the Kindred world for being able to capture a person so completely it's a very intimate glimpse into their true selves. Ros hasn't done a portrait of herself in decades not since the last time she did one and realized she didn't recognize the face looking back at her and destroyed it.

[ashhleysolo7]

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

I originally posted this to my ao3 account, but I thought I'd share it on tumblr, too :) let me know what you think!

Summary:

How one magical portrait of James Potter helps Sirius Black and Remus Lupin admit their undying love for each other.

In other words, James' portrait is fed up with Sirius and Remus tip-toeing around each other and decides to take matters into his own hands.

Notes: James and Lily, unfortunately, do not make it, Sirius does not go to Azkaban, Sirius and Remus raise Harry, Voldemort is actually gone, and Regulus is good bc I love him I don't make the rules

sirius x remus | 9k | idiots in love

🌙✨

The months after Halloween are difficult, to say the least. 

While what seems like the entirety of the Wizarding World is celebrating, Sirius Black is grieving the devastating loss of his two best mates. He’s also grappling with the fact that someone he once considered a friend was a traitorous, spineless murderer and adapting to a life where he is responsible for someone other than himself. Someone who happens to be his godson and a baby currently under the age of two.

When the truth reveals that Peter sold James and Lily to Voldemort, and the Ministry finally sentences Wormtail to a lifetime in Azkaban, Sirius takes Harry to Potter Manor. He moves out of the small flat he shared with Remus, though in those final months leading up to Halloween, it was as if Sirius lived there on his own, and scrounges for any items from Godric’s Hollow he could bring back with him to James’ childhood home. 

Miraculously, a ridiculous portrait of James, Lily, and baby Harry survives the wreckage and Sirius is suddenly quite thankful for the item he once thought was one of the dumbest ideas his knobhead of a best mate ever came up with.

“It’s a perfect Christmas present for Lily!” Prongs had argued with the utmost conviction he had about most of his hair-brained ideas.

“You can do whatever you like, mate, but I’m telling you, Lily will hate it.”

Sirius doesn’t like to admit when he’s wrong, and he’d bet he wasn’t entirely incorrect this time because Lily certainly hadn’t seemed over the moon about the magical portrait of her family. But the years had softened her as she only looked at it with a bemused smirk before giving James a placating kiss on the cheek. 

But now, Sirius has at least one way to communicate with the couple, no matter if it is just a shell of their former selves. It significantly dulls the pain, taking Harry to the portrait every morning to say hi to mummy and daddy. He can still engage in brief banter with Prongs like they’re still roommates back at school, and it’s especially delightful to overhear Lily calling James a toerag from out in the hallway while Sirius cooks in the kitchen. 

It feels, for a moment, like nothing has changed.

That is until Sirius remembers he will never speak to James or Lily again. He’ll never come crashing through the Floo, yelling about whatever failed date he’d just been on, never fall asleep at the foot of their bed as Padfoot after one too many firewhiskies with Lily yelling for him to get out, and never waltz into the kitchen after a long mission away with the Order and steal Harry out of her arms, causing giggles to pour out of all three Potters as he tosses Harry gently in the air. 

But Sirius can’t focus on those morose thoughts. Instead, he puts all his energy into helping Harry settle in as they adjust to their new normal.

So Sirius spends the days watching Harry perfect his mischievous toddler ways: climbing over furniture and throwing food into Sirius’ hair, followed by loud giggles at Sirius’ affronted cries. And Sirius continues to be utterly amazed as Harry learns new word after new word, new skill after new skill. He swears the lad grows another centimetre each night.

And he spends his evenings pouring over parenting books and flooing Remus, meticulously reviewing his day and voicing his concerns that he’s absolutely failing as a godfather until Remus can convince him that he’s making the right decisions. 

Thankfully, Remus never minds giving Sirius the constant reassurance he desires. He reminds Sirius that, ‘No, just because Harry cried that does notmean he hates you, Pads.’

Now that the war is over, the two Marauders are around much more often. Neither of them has to travel for missions nor to spy for Dumbledore anymore, meaning that besides Remus’ part-time job at Flourish and Blotts, his schedule is wide open. 

Remus tells Sirius over and over that he absolutely in no way minds the late-night chats or the invitations for drinks after Harry’s settled for the evening. They’re mates, best mates, and that’s what they’re for. 

One of the first times Sirius reaches out to Remus with what he considers a huge favour, it’s a request to babysit for the night. 

In the six months since James and Lily passed, Sirius hasn’t really made time for himself. Remus was surprised to see Sirius take Harry’s care so, for lack of a better word, seriously. Not that he expected Sirius to be a subpar caretaker, but the way he took to fatherhood was inspiring. 

He puts so much thought and concern into how he’s raising Harry. He refuses to order takeaway or feed Harry anything but homecooked meals, except for the rare occasions Remus convinces him to bring Harry along to grab pizza or chips and a curry while reassuring Sirius that Harry’s not going to look at him any differently for having one beer with dinner. Still, even then, Sirius would bring food for Harry, insisting that whatever the restaurant was serving couldn’t possibly be good enough for his godson.

But when a nice lad asks Sirius to drinks down at the pub one afternoon while on a stroll in the park with Harry, Sirius decides it’s time. So he sends a quick note to Remus, asking if he’d be free the following evening to watch the prongslet overnight.  

About five minutes before Remus is supposed to arrive, Sirius picks Harry up from where he’s flipping through some books in the sitting room and tells him, “Just a few more minutes and Uncle Moony will be here! And I’ll see you again, bright and early, because Pads here has a date!”

Harry lets out a chorus of giggles as Sirius bounces him on his hip until his father decides to make an appearance. 

“A date?” Sirius hears Prongs call out from down the hall.

Every time the portrait suddenly speaks, Sirius’ heartbeat kicks into overdrive, and for a split-second, he thinks his best mate has returned. But then his commonsense reappears, and he remembers it’s that blasted painting he has somehow grown to cherish.

Sirius walks over to the portrait, letting Harry reach out and rub his tiny fingers along the enchanted oil figures of his parents. 

“Yes, Prongs. You’re always telling me I should settle down, so I’m going on a date.”

“And who might I ask will be watching Harry?” The way Prongs’ eyebrow raises above his round glasses is uncanny, and Sirius severely underestimated how much time James had spent with the portrait before his death. 

“Didn’t you hear me, mate? Moony’s coming round.” 

Sirius doesn’t have time to decipher James’ confused stare because at that moment, a knock sounds out at the front door, and Sirius is back off to the entrance hall to let Remus in. 

“There he is! Moony’s here, Harry!”

Still unable to fully say ‘Moony,’ Harry instead calls out, “Moon! Moon!” to Sirius’ utter delight. 

“Moony! Thanks again for watching him, mate!” Sirius genially greets as he swings the door open and sees Remus’ lovely dark eyes grinning back at him. 

Remus pats Sirius on the back as he enters the home but doesn’t waste any time before he steals Harry out of Sirius’ arms, causing little Harry to erupt into squeals of excitement.

“No problem, Pads. I told you, anytime you need me, all you have to do is ask.”

While he lets Remus and Harry get acquainted, Sirius grabs his leather jacket and shrugs it on, ensuring he has both his wand and some muggle pounds. 

After relaying the details of Harry’s nightly routine for the umpteenth time and avoiding Remus practically pushing him out the front door of Potter Manor, Sirius finally says goodbye, giving both Harry and Remus quick kisses on the cheek. 

But as the door swings shut behind him, he hears James’ voice once again. 

“You’re an idiot, mate.”

Deciding he’ll never get to his date on time if he sticks around to find out what the hell the portrait is talking about, he leaves through the front gate, heading off down the pavement towards the pub. 

But instead of returning the following morning in rumpled clothes from the night before with finger-tousled, ‘I’ve just had the life shagged out of me,’ hair as he had hoped, Sirius walks back up the cobblestone path to the front entrance of James’ home - no, his and Harry’s home, now - just a few short hours later.

Sirius could have gone home with his date, but as they hovered by the pub’s entrance, the question of whether Sirius would like a nightcap back at his flat hanging unanswered in the late night air, something whispered that he should get back home to Harry and Moony. 

The evening was fine, and it wasn’t like the lad was horrible or terribly boring. They got along well enough, bonding over footy and Muggle music that Sirius has grown fond of over the years. It just wasn’t right. He was missing that spark that Sirius always swears he’s looking for. Someone who can keep up with his banter, who challenges him, who doesn’t let him get away with his overdramatic tendencies. 

When he stumbles through the door a little after midnight, dropping his keys in the bowl and watching as his leather jacket tumbles to the ground instead of hanging on the coat rack as he hoped, he’s happy to find the home is quiet, Harry obviously fast asleep for hours now, and a warm glow from a lamp still on in the front sitting room spilling out into the entryway. 

Remus looks up from where he’s buried his nose in his book. Uncurling himself from the edge of the settee, he sits up straight, placing his feet back on the soft carpet and making room for Sirius as the slightly tipsy marauder meanders over, a melancholy look on his face. 

“Hey, Moony,” Sirius says tiredly, plopping beside Remus. He rests his head back on the top of the cushion, staring at the ceiling with his limbs hanging limply around him as he blows a stray curl off his face.

“Date end badly?” Remus asks, peering over at Sirius’ slumped figure. He waves his wand at a nearby bottle of firewhiskey, pouring Sirius a glass and topping off his own. 

“No, it was alright. Just not the one.”

“You’re never gonna find the one if you keep writing them off after one date,” Remus jokes, sliding the drink into Sirius’ hands.

“Oi,” Sirius points sternly, pushing himself until he’s sitting up straight. “I can’t help that I can tell after a couple of hours that it’s just not going to work out. Besides, you should be happy that your best mate isn’t settling.”

“You refused to go on a second date with Emmaline because she was scared of flying!”

Sirius scoffs, rolling his eyes at the memory. “Honestly, who’s scared of flying? That’s ridiculous. Obviously, it never would have worked. And we were fifteen. That hardly counts.”

“Sure,” Remus laughs, his eyes glinting in amusement from where he’s gazing at Sirius in amusement over his glass of Ogden’s.

“Well, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“When’s the last time you’ve been out with a lad?”

Remus avoids eye contact with Sirius, studiously appraising the hues of amber and gold swirling around the crystal container. “I’ve told you, Sirius, I can’t be in a relationship with my-”

“Merlin, you’re not still on about that, are you mate? The war’s over, you’re in your prime, and you’re Moony. Any man would be lucky to have you, ya git.”

Remus tries to hold back his laugh, but a chuckle breaks through despite his best efforts.  

“Cheers,” Remus replies. “Anyway, I’m too busy to date at the moment. Have to make sure you and Harry stay out of trouble, don’t I?”

Remus quickly downs the rest of his glass at the wink Sirius sends him, and the two continue to catch up, eventually falling asleep together on the settee. 

In the morning, Sirius blinks his heavy eyelids open to find his face smushed into Remus’ chest. Inhaling the comforting scent of chocolate and cigarette smoke he’s grown accustomed over the years to hanging around Moony like a delightful little cloud, he pushes himself onto his feet, stretching and cracking his back after an uncomfortable few hours sleeping on the sofa. 

After freshening up, he grabs Harry, getting the boy ready for the day before heading to the kitchen and finding Moony awake, downing a quick cup of tea. 

“Hey, want to grab breakfast out with us?” Sirius asks, picking up the mug Remus has left out for him, with the perfect amount of milk and sugar. 

“Can’t. I have to open the shop this morning. I’ve picked up a few extra shifts this week. The rent’s gone up again.” Placing his dirty mug in the sink, he waves his wand, watching as the cup cleans itself before floating back to its spot in the cupboard.

“Moony,” Sirius sighs in exasperation. “I told you I’d help with the rent if you need it. You don’t need to pick up extra shifts, mate.”

“And I told you, I can handle it. I like working there. It’s not a hardship, Pads.”

Remus pushes past Sirius to head down the hall, ignoring the raised eyebrow he receives from James’ portrait as he enters the sitting room to grab his things.

“But you wouldn’t have to pay the rent alone if I hadn’t moved out. At least let me continue to pay for my share.”

“Sirius, drop it. We’ve talked about this a million times. I’m not going to accept your money.” Sliding his wand into the back pocket of his trousers and running a hand through his mousy waves, he turns back to Sirius, shoulders slumping as he lets out a deep breath. “I appreciate you wanting to help, Padfoot, but you don’t have to worry about me. Have fun at breakfast, alright?”

Placing a kiss upon Harry’s forehead, Remus raises his hand in a short wave before striding over to the fireplace, calling out his flat’s address.

“Your Uncle Moony is stubborn, Harry. He’s stubborn!”

After the green flames die down, it doesn’t take long for James to mutter to Lily, “I don’t know how much longer I can go without saying something.” 

“You’ve never held your tongue once in your life, mate,” Sirius calls out, wondering what he’s done now that he’ll have to hear about. 

Just last week, the portrait version of his friend had moaned for hours about the stuffed toy snake Harry had taken to carrying around. Sirius would be impressed with the painting if it wasn’t driving him mad.

“What’s happened to his lion teddy?!” James had cried, affronted as Harry waddled over to the portrait, raising his new prize to show it off to his parents.

“Don’t look at me like that, mate. You didn’t see his face at the zoo museum. The boy was about to burst into tears if he couldn’t leave with it, and Regulus was all too happy to buy it for him.”

“If Harry ends up in Slytherin -” James starts to threaten, but Lily quickly interrupts.

“Then we’ll be equally proud of him, right James?” Her painted figure turns toward her husband, glaring at him as hard as she ever did during their seven years of schooling. Sirius swears he sees James’ figure gulp before nodding quickly. Lily directs her attention back to the baby in her frame, her unamused frown morphing into a soft grin as she watches her son wave out to his doppelganger on the other side. “That was very nice of Regulus, wasn’t it, Harry?”

“Reg!” Harry calls, making a soft hissing noise as he moves his toy snake around before waddling down the hallway with Sirius trailing after him.

“I take offence to that,” James replies to Sirius, obviously put out that Padfoot would call him out like that.

“Just telling it like it is, Prongs. Now out with it, mate. What is it you wanted to say?”

Lily gives her husband a warning look, and Sirius watches as James’ eyes dart back and forth between his wife and his self-proclaimed brother before blurting, “Why haven’t you just asked Moony to come and live here already?!”

“Oh. Didn’t think of that.”

“Idiots. The both of them, I swear,” James sighs to Lily, rolling his eyes before dropping his face into his hands. “I should’ve been given an Order of Merlin for dealing with them.”

Lily rubs her husband’s back soothingly, giving Sirius a commiserating smile as if she’s holding back laughter at the pair of them.

“Oi, shut it. You know how Moony is. He’s too prideful for his own good.” 

Lily and James shoot Sirius identical looks he takes as them saying, “Really?” and he swears James mutters under his breath, “Cauldron, kettle,” to which he waves them off. 

“You know what I mean. You saw how he reacted when I offered to help with the rent. He hates feeling like a charity case and refuses to accept money, let alone ask for help, the git,” Sirius sighs fondly, wishing Remus would just realise it’s not a weakness to accept help from his mates. 

It took Sirius himself far too long to come to that realisation, but Prongs and Moony helped him see that. Now, if only Remus would take his own bloody advice.

“He’s gonna come up with some bullshit like, ‘I don’t want to be an imposition, Pads.’”

“Sirius, I’m sure Remus is doing okay. And if he was truly struggling, he would come to you for help.” At James’ imploring gaze, Lily continues, “But… if you really want him to move in, maybe you could explain that an extra set of hands around the house with Harry would be a huge help.”

“That would be nice,” Sirius agrees. “And I’ve missed having a roommate that’s not a child under the age of two…”

“What are we then?!”

“Honey,” Lily sighs, patting her husband on the arm placatingly while rolling her eyes goodnaturedly at Sirius. “But really, is living with a baby all that different than living with James in Gryffindor Tower?”

“Oi! And from my own wife!” James rolls back against the frame as if he’s been stabbed, to the utter delight of the baby Harry at their feet.

“Yeah, alright. I’ll talk to him. Thanks, Potters.”

Sirius stares appraisingly at the painted figures of his best friends, cherishing James’ excited and hopeful expression compared with Lily’s patient and loving demeanour. Merlin, he really wishes they were still here.

The next time Remus stops by, Sirius has his argument all planned out. 

He cooks a delicious dinner for them and Harry, setting the Potter’s dining table and even going as far as buying Moony’s favourite bottle of elf-made wine. 

Remus eyes the rarely used table with suspicion but Sirius insists they stop living like heathens, eating standing up in the kitchen or with plates in their laps on the settee, and actually use the table for once. 

The only problem is, by the time Harry’s bathed and in bed, Sirius is pleasantly buzzed on wine, the spring breeze blowing in through the open windows, and Remus’ laughter, and he can’t exactly remember all the finer points he’d mapped out in his mind earlier. 

All he can focus on now is how much he wants this all the time. He and Remus together, taking care of Harry, making jokes and reminiscing about their school days over a couple of drinks.

“Moooooony,” Sirius draws out, plopping down onto the settee next to Remus and throwing his legs over Remus’ lap as he places a second bottle of wine on the coffee table. 

“Yes, Padfoot?” Remus replies, quirking an eyebrow at his mate while unable to help the upward quirk of his lips at Sirius’ whinging. 

“I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh?” 

“Move in with us.”

Remus chokes on his drink, and a little droplet of red liquid appears at the corner of his mouth. Sirius leans forward, resting his chest against Remus’ shoulder and brushing his thumb along the spilt wine before placing said thumb in his mouth, sucking off all traces of the juice from his finger.

“Wh-what?” Remus blinks at Sirius, eyes flickering down to where his thumb has disappeared between his wine-stained lips. 

“Come on, Moons. It just makes sense. We have plenty of room here! And it’s not like you’re not here all the time anyway.”

“I’m not here all the ti-”

Remus’ cheeks are slightly pink, but Sirius doesn’t notice as he ploughs on.

“And, I mean, if all of this hadn’t happened,” He continues, waving his arm around them to encompass all the shite they’ve been through in the past year, “Then we would still be living together, yeah? 

“I mean… I guess that’s true.”

“I could really use the help with Harry, honestly. He’d love it if you were here more. And we worked well together as roommates, didn’t we, Moony?” Sirius pouts, leaning closer to Remus again, hoping his puppy dog eyes will seal the deal. 

Rolling his eyes, Remus turns rigid, refusing to look at Sirius and instead staring straight ahead at the soft flames sparking in the grate before gritting his teeth and giving a quick, firm nod.

“Yes! So it’s settled. Tomorrow we’ll start moving your stuff out of the flat and into the spare bedroom.” 

“I didn’t agree, Pads. I was just-”

“Nonsense, Moony. I told you, it just makes sense. You already stay there enough anyway! It’s yours! You’re off tomorrow, right?”

Nodding, Remus sighs in defeat. 

“Fine, but I will be helping with groceries and Harry’s care,” Remus sternly tells Sirius, pointing at his chest in warning. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Moony!” Sirius smiles, raising his glass in cheers and momentarily thinking that was easier than he thought it’d be.  

🌙✨

Sirius knows like it should have felt like a bigger adjustment once Moony moves in, but it genuinely feels as if he’s always been there. 

They take turns with Harry, ensuring he’s staying on his schedule, and it’s as natural as if they’ve been doing it all along. Remus cuts back on his shifts at Flourish and Blotts, spending more days out and about with Sirius and Harry, and Sirius is finally feeling a sense of calm take over - like maybe he really has gotten the hang of this whole parenting thing. 

Though it all seems to be going swimmingly, it doesn’t take long for Remus to notice something’s up with the portrait of James, Lily, and Harry from Godric’s Hollow. 

The first clue arrives a week into Remus living at Potter Manor. 

Sirius wakes early that morning, allowing Remus to have a much-needed lie-in. The next full moon is approaching, and though Sirius has greatly appreciated the break Remus has given him from being a full-time parent, he knows Remus is exhausted from the extra time spent taking care of Harry and all his recent early morning shifts opening the bookstore. 

Once Sirius has fed Harry his breakfast and given him a quick change, he places the boy with a few books and toys in the sitting room before heading into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.

He vaguely registers the shower going and hopes he wasn’t too loud with Harry’s morning routine, but he sets about pulling out an extra cup for Remus, along with cream and sugar and the makings for a full English. 

Just as the kettle whistles, a high-pitch scream follows it from out in the hallway.

“Harry! Harry, oh no! Quick, Padfoot! Moony! Help!” James yells from inside his portrait, causing Sirius to drop his mug, porcelain shattering as he sprints into the hallway. 

He surges past the painting, forgoing the desire to ask his mate what’s going on and instead running into the sitting room, wondering what trouble the toddler could have gotten into in the brief moments since he’d left him. 

A wave of guilt crashed over him; he knew he should have stayed with Harry until Remus got up. But all the safety charms and alarm spells he’d cast around the home should have alerted him if something was wrong.  

Rushing over to the boy, Sirius lifts him, looking him over and trying to determine where he was hurt. 

“Are you alright, Harry? What happened?” He asks in a panic, directing the second question over to Prongs.

Harry peers up at him, obviously startled by the commotion but looking, for the most part, unharmed.

“Sorry, Padfoot. It looked like he was walking over to the fireplace. I was just afraid he was getting too close. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just got panicked.”

Sighing in relief, he hugs Harry close, kissing the top of his head. 

Suddenly, Sirius registers the bathroom door opening, hitting the wall in its rush, and then Moony bursts into the room.

“What happened?! Is Harry alright?”

Remus stands in the doorway, chest heaving in a mixture of fear and exertion from rushing out of the shower to ensure everyone was safe, and Sirius can’t help but gape at the towel slung low around his hips.

Droplets of water drip down his scarred chest, along the toned muscles and sparse bits of hair, leading below the edge of the fluffy, white towel. The few years since their shared dorm days at Hogwarts had done Remus well. He was no longer the tall, gangly kid Sirius remembers sharing a room with. 

When did Moony get so fit?! 

Realising this is Remus he’s ogling, Sirius’ eyes snap back to his face, which really isn’t all that much better. Remus’ mouth is open wide, taking deep gulps of air to calm his racing heart, and Sirius briefly wonders if his lips have always looked so kissable. 

His wet hair is pushed back as if he was in the middle of rinsing out his shampoo, giving Sirius a clear view of his wide eyes, his pupils dilated from the obvious fear that something had happened to poor Harry. And his cheeks are a delightful shade of pink, and Sirius finds he wants to trace the droplet racing down the side of his face with his lips before latching on to the spot along his neck he’s sure will make Remus -

Merlin, where did this come from?  

He’s never thought about Moony like this before. 

Well, that’s not exactly true. 

Remus was what Sirius would consider his gay awakening, not that Remus himself knows that, but he knew he was into lads, as well as birds, when Remus came back their fourth year, towering above the rest of them, his broad chest stretching out those adorable jumpers he wore. Sirius, along with the rest of Gryffindor house, moved Remus right up to the top of the ‘fittest blokes in their year’ list. 

But Sirius knew he needed to move on from that crush quickly.  

It never ended well to fancy one of your best mates, and Remus had made it quite clear over the years that he did not fancy Sirius. Remus didn’t date much, but the few blokes he had gone out with over the years were so far from anything like Sirius that it was almost comical. 

No, their relationship was strictly platonic. 

And Sirius was fine with that. He had thought that the feelings had gone away. He hadn’t thought about Moony like that in years, especially with the war bearing down on them. But seeing him now, like this? Maybe the feelings had just been buried deep down?

Or… maybe I just need a shag.  

“Sorry, Moony,” A beaming James apologises from his perch on the wall behind them. “False alarm.”

“Prongs,” Sirius admonishes. “You know enchantments are barring Harry from just waltzing into the flames.”

“I know, I wasn’t thinking. Just got scared.”

Remus glares back at the painting, but Prongs just shrugs sheepishly, obviously unfazed. 

“Honest mistake, mate.”

Rolling his eyes, Remus directs his attention back to Sirius and Harry.

“You alright, Padfoot?”

“Huh?” Sirius asks, shaking his head and tearing his eyes away from an enticing droplet that trails its way along Moony’s collarbone to meet his gaze. 

“You just still seem a little out of it,” Remus says, obviously concerned for his best mate. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, sorry!” Sirius jerks, directing his attention back to the boy in his arms. “Just in a bit of shock. That scared me a bit, but we’re alright.”

“Good. I’m just gonna…” He trails off, nodding his head back in the direction of the bathroom.

“Sorry to interrupt your shower, Moony,” James winks as Remus walks past him, his smile widening even further at the glare Remus directs his way. 

🌙✨

The next time Remus realises that James is interfering in his and Sirius’ friendship is on Harry’s second birthday. 

Remus is out in the back garden, watching Harry and Molly Weasley’s brood of children flying around on toy broomsticks. It’s been a delightful summer afternoon, catching up with the adults while watching Harry share his presents with Molly’s youngest boy, Ron, with Sirius’ booming laughter as a perfect soundtrack in the background. 

He’s sipping on a butterbeer, listening to Molly’s husband Arthur explain his latest experiment with his Muggle radio when Sirius heads inside to grab Harry’s cake. Letting Molly know it’s time, they wrangle the kids, leading them to the picnic table they’d set up so everyone would be ready to sing to Harry once the cake arrived. 

“Oi, Black, mind if I use your toilet?” Molly’s brother, Fabian, calls out to Sirius as the ginger follows him into the home. He was a couple of years ahead of the Mauraders at Hogwarts, but they’d all grown closer during the war as Fabian and his brother Gideon were both members of the Order. 

Gideon died in a fight against Death Eaters early during the war. He was outnumbered but held them off long enough for Fabian to lead the Muggles in the area to safety. Unfortunately, his death was something Sirius and Fabian could bond over; the overwhelming loss they’d both been dealt due to the war.  

Sirius, entering the kitchen and summoning a couple of candles to place on top of the Quidditch-themed cake he’d purchased for Harry, nods absentmindedly to the bloke. Remus had told him the candles were pointless; Harry, being only two, wouldn’t be able to properly blow them out, but Sirius insisted. It’s his birthday, Moony! He’s got to have candles on his cake! 

“The bathroom’s down the hall, mate. Second door on the left.”

“Cheers.” 

He continues arranging the candles, then uses his wand to light them and levitate the cake out the door and into the hallway. Before he can stride out through the open glass doors and back into the garden, he notices out of the corner of his eye that Fabian has struck up a conversation with James’ portrait. 

The noise from the party is overflowing into the home, but he’s close enough to hear James say, “No, mate. You should go for it.”

Fabian laughs, “I’ve never gotten dating advice from a portrait before, but if you say so, Potter.”

Sirius doesn’t have time to reflect on what he’s just heard, because at that moment the kids see the cake and the singing begins in earnest.

Sirius absolutely melts at Harry’s gleeful expression. The lad makes grabby hands at the cake, and Remus leans down to explain to him not to touch, but to blow the candles out.

In the end, Sirius extinguishes the candles nonverbally, making Harry clap, believing he’d blown them out himself. While Sirius takes his seat next to Harry, giving him his slice and watching as he forgoes the small spoon they’d laid out and instead grabs a fistful of icing, Molly helps distribute pieces of cake to the rest of the group. 

Remus is off to the side, rubbing his chin in amusement while he watches Harry with a soft smile on his face. Sirius is busy appreciating Remus’ arms in the rare short-sleeve shirt he’s donned for the stifling summer afternoon when Fabian sidles up next to him. 

“Thanks for having us, Remus.” The lanky redhead greets, and something about the conversation immediately bristles Sirius, like he’s a cat with his fur standing on end. Remus has fully ingratiated himself in their little family, but it was Sirius who sent out the invitations for today, not Moony. 

“Of course,” He cordially replies, sending Sirius a sly cheeky grin, which he takes to mean, ‘Behave.’ “Thanks for coming. Harry loves spending time with your family.”

“They do get along great, don’t they?” Fabian asks, nodding down at Harry as the boy leans over to Ron, trying to give him a handful of his icing. “And it was good to see you. It’s been a while. Maybe I could see you again sometime, without all of my nephews and niece?” 

“Sure,” Remus agrees absentmindedly, directing his attention back down to where Harry is finally eating the actual cake portion of his dessert. 

“How about Friday night? The Three Broomsticks?” 

Sirius watches, flabbergasted, as it seems to dawn on Remus that the bloody wanker is asking him out. Fabian grins like the cat that got the cream, a charming smile with his hazel eyes twinkling in the afternoon sunlight as Remus’ dark eyes widen in shock.

“Oh. Like- like a d-”

“A date,” Fabian confirms before Remus can get the word out himself.

Sirius wants to blame the flush he watches spread on Remus’ cheeks on the hot air, but numerous cooling charms throughout the garden are keeping the kids and their guests from overheating in the sun, and the way Remus bashfully avoids eye contact, starring down at his feet with a small, pleased smile on his face entirely destroys that theory. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“Pick you up around six?”

“Perfect.”

Before Sirius can close his mouth and adopt a neutral expression at the blasphemy he’s just witnessed, a glop of yellow icing slaps him directly in the face. 

It makes a loud enough plop that Remus and Fabian turn to look.

“Bollocks.”  He curses, and Harry lets out a little giggle. If the laugh is directed at his action or the word Sirius isn’t entirely certain until he hears a confident “Bollocks!” shouted back at him in Harry’s high-pitched squeal. 

“Nice going,” Regulus whispers beside him, handing his older brother a napkin.

“Piss off,” Sirius grumbles, wishing it was socially acceptable for him to throw icing at Regulus. Or perhaps Fabian. Yes, that would be satisfying. 

As Remus leans down to gently remind Harry that they don’t throw icing and that bollocks is an adult word, Sirius stalks off to the kitchen with Regulus trailing behind him.

“So, why did your boyfriend just agree to a date with another man?”

“He’s not my boyfrien- Oi, don’t be a prat, Reg.”

Using Aguamenti, Sirius wets a flannel, wiping the remnants of the sticky sweetness the icing left behind off his cheek before filling a glass and taking a large gulp. 

“Why don’t you just ask him out already?” Regulus complains, plopping himself on the Potter’s kitchen counter.

“We’re mates. It’s not like that.”

“Okay, then why did you look like you wanted to throttle Prewett?”

“I just don’t like the lad, that’s all,” Sirius mumbled, turning away from his little brother’s knowing smirk and grabbing a butterbeer instead.

“Oh, so is that why thirty minutes ago you almost pissed yourself laughing at one of his stories?” Regulus raises his eyebrow in disbelief, his barely concealed smirk just waiting to turn into a full-blown, shit-eating grin.

 Sirius frowned, knowing that if anyone had asked him thirty minutes ago, he would’ve waxed poetic about how cool Prewett was. He and James had been determined to follow in Fabian and Gideon’s footsteps, attempting to be the leading pranksters at Hogwarts. 

But now… 

“I just- He’s not right for our Moony, that’s all,” Sirius replies determinedly. 

“Whatever you say, brother. But you might want to ask him out yourself before it’s too late.”

Friday night comes far too quickly for Sirius’ liking. 

All week he’s been in a mood.  

Ever since Prewett muttered ‘a date,’ like an absolute prat, Sirius has felt the need to punch something. Hard.  

He still doesn’t fully understand why it peeves him off so much, the idea of Moony going on a date. It’s not just Prewett either, he’s realised. 

Oh, no. The idea of his Moony going out with any old lad puts him in a right sour mood. It could be anyone, and Sirius would still feel the monster raging within his chest. 

He’s still moaning about until he hears Moony waltz back in through the door a few hours after Fabian swept him through their fireplace. He feels an immense relief course through him, and he can’t bare to think about how mad he would have driven himself if Remus hadn’t returned until the next morning. 

The green tinge he’d been seeing the world through all week disappears as Moony walks into the sitting room and smiles at Sirius nursing a glass of firewhiskey on the settee.

It’s then that Sirius realises he’s jealous.  

Jealous of Remus dating, holding hands, snogging another bloke. The Padfoot within him growls fiercely at the idea of his Moony dating anyone other than Sirius himself.

Thankfully, Remus provides a heavenly distraction from Sirius coming to terms with these revelations when he slumps down next to him, stealing Sirius’ glass and taking a sip of the amber liquor. 

“Did you have a nice time?” Sirius forces himself to ask, though the question burns in his throat almost as badly as the firewhiskey itself. 

“Yeah, it was alright. A little strange.”

“Strange?”

“Yeah… I mean, we get along, obviously. So it was a nice time. And, I mean, he’s attractive, but it was strange. It was the first time I’d ever been out with someone who knows about my condition. So the things I usually worry about… just weren’t there.”

Oh. Sirius really didn’t think about that. And now the jealous monster, the angry dog, has morphed into a whining puppy, guilt-ridden at how he’s acted all week.

No matter if Sirius wishes it was him in Fabian’s place - and Merlin that is going to take some getting used to - Remus deserves this. 

He deserves someone who will prove to him that he is worthy of love and devotion and all the things that make life worth living. 

“I’m happy for you, Moony,” Sirius forces himself to say, hoping Remus doesn’t notice his strained smile.

Remus quirks a smile back, peering over Sirius’ figure in a way that makes him think maybe he wasn’t as believable as he had hoped. 

“Thanks, Pads. Did you, um. Did you tell him to ask me out?”

“What?”

“Well, he just said he probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t gotten some advice from one of my mates.”

“No… No, it wasn’t me. But I’m glad you had a good time.”

Confusion settles over Moony’s expression, but it quickly morphs into one of realisation. Sirius watches as it becomes stony, and then he proceeds to down the rest of Sirius’ drink.

“It’s been a long day. I’m off to bed. Night, Pads.” 

He ignores the call of goodnight from James’ painting, and instead bypasses it for his door. As Sirius stumbles up the stairs to his bed a couple of hours later, the bottle of firewhiskey almost finished, he’s finally accepted that he, Sirius Orion Black, fancies Remus John Lupin.

Bugger. 

🌙✨

Sirius secretly hoped that Remus and Fabian’s first date would also be their last, but he was sorely mistaken. 

For the next month, he watches Remus stop in after a morning shift at Flourish and Blotts to freshen up for a lunch date or as he leaves early for dinner with Prewett. The prat even sometimes joins them on dates with Harry, being perfectly agreeable and charming and buying Harry anything he wants. 

It drives Sirius up the wall, but he can’t say anything. This is the happiest Remus has ever looked, and Sirius cannot ruin that because of his silly schoolboy crush.

But the first time he wakes in the morning and finds Remus’ bedroom door open, the light off and the bed still made, obviously not slept in, it’s a sucker punch to Sirius’ system. 

And the fact that Remus is donning his favourite jumpers for his dates, looking as adorable as ever, is not helping matters in the slightest. Sirius grows more and more frustrated, wishing he could just grab Moony by the shoulders and snog him senselessly. 

Finally, Andromeda insists that Sirius take a night off for once and reassures him that Harry will be fine overnight with her, Ted, and Nymphadora. Ted has pizza and Muggle kid films lined up for the evening, and Sirius pretends he’s not ready to burst into tears about leaving Harry for a night as he drops him off. It’s not the first time he’s stayed overnight with the Tonks', but every time he leaves the boy, it’s challenging.  

But still, Sirius decides to take his cousin up on the offer, knowing that Harry will love spending the evening with Nymphadora, or Tonks, as she’s insisting they call her, the hyper-active seven-year-old, and proceeds to relax, as Andromeda ordered.

He heads straight to his room at Potter Manor, relaxing in a scalding shower. After, with a glass of firewhiskey on his nightstand, clad in nothing but a pair of pants, he settles into the too-big bed, ready for a night of blissful stress relief. 

He’s so tense, and he doesn’t find much time to himself, what with a two-year-old running around, so he intends to take full advantage of an empty home.

He refuses to think of Remus as his hand trails along the edge of his pants where they rest against his stomach, instead focusing on the feeling of his fingers gliding along his warm skin. 

But what he doesn’t know, is that Remus had just recently walked through the front door from his dinner with Prewett, and James, the insufferable little shite, told Remus that Sirius wanted him to speak to him. 

So, right as his hand slips below the elastic, his bedroom door opens, and there Remus is, standing gobsmacked in the doorframe. 

Sirius yelps, yanking his hand away from his body and diving for a pillow to cover himself.

“Oh, fuck. Sirius, I am so sorry. I’m just going to -yeah.” 

The door slams, and Sirius hears footsteps padding down the carpet along the staircase until Remus’ door clatters to a close, as well. 

And Remus knows that for the third and final time, James’ stupid portrait is up to something.  

Remus, having enough of James’ meddling, waits until Sirius is out at the park with Harry the next day to confront the portrait. 

He’s been avoiding Padfoot, hiding in his room since the unfortunate incident the night before, until he heard Sirius and Harry leave, the front door closing loudly behind them. 

“What in Merlin’s name are you up to, Prongs?”

“Have no idea what you’re talking about, Moony,” James replies, the widest, guiltiest smirk adorning his face. 

“Oh? So you didn’t tell Fabian he should ask me out?” Crossing his arms against his broad chest, Remus glares at the portrait before raising his eyebrows at Lily, hoping he could get something with the more reasonable one of the couple.

The painted version of James’ wife smacks her husband’s arm, nodding in Remus’s direction in a ‘go on’ gesture. 

James sighs, telling Remus, “I might have mentioned that I thought he’d have a shot if he went for it.”

“And reassured him that Sirius and I weren’t dating?”

“Possibly.”

His smarmy grin only grows as the questioning continues. 

“And Sirius and I continually catching each other unawares, half-dressed is just a pure coincidence?” 

“Whatever you two get up to in the comfort of my own home is none of my business.”

“That one was my idea, actually,” Lily admits, shrugging her shoulders at the aghast look Remus sends her before high-fiving her husband.

“Look, Moony. We’re tired of sitting around watching you two tip-toe around each other. You just needed a few nudges!”

Remus sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep him from doing something stupid like hexing the painting of his best mate. 

“Honestly, how did you get your portrait to be such a twat?”

“Oi. Maybe my portrait is just serving a purpose.”

“Yeah, and what’s that?”

“Getting you two prats to admit you’re in love with each other, obviously.”

“Prongs, for the last time, Sirius does not love me. We talked about this last time.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t see it! Hell, he was practically drooling over you that day you walked out in nothing but a towel!”

“He absolutely was not. And, even if he was, which he wasn’t!” Remus sternly repeats, glaring at the painting. “That doesn’t mean he’s in love with me. I think he’s made that pretty obvious over the years.”

“Moony, Padfoot is an idiot. I love him, but he wouldn’t recognise love if it transfigured itself into a Cornish pixie and bit him on the arse. He keeps saying he’s looking for the one, and all the qualities he describes are you.” 

“James, that’s just not true.”

“Intelligent, funny, caring, sarcastic, fit, doesn’t put up with his bullshit, loves Harry more than anything else? All sounds like our good ol’ Moony to me! He flirts with you all the time!”

“He flirts with everyone,” Remus waves him off with a roll of his eyes. It’s true.

“C’mon, you’re supposed to be the smart one. You can’t honestly tell me that you don’t think Padfoot has the hots for you.”

“He doesn’t.”

“Maybe,” Lily interrupts, ever the voice of reason. “You should just tell him how you feel, Remus. Then, you can find out his answer for yourself.”

“I can’t, Lils. That would ruin everything.”

“Moony, you’ve been in love with him since he stepped off the Hogwarts Express first year and you haven’t said anything. I just don’t understand why you’re keeping yourself from being happy.”

“Because Sirius and I don’t make sense. We never have, and we never will. We’re mates, and that’s it. You have to cut it out, Prongs. Yesterday was too much. Promise me you’ll stop.”

James pauses, taking in Remus’ expression, before dropping his shoulders in defeat.

“Fine. I promise I won’t interfere anymore.”

“On the map?”

“.... Yes. I promise - on the map.”

“Good. Thank you.”

🌙✨

“So, I heard Moony and Prewett are looking at flats together,” James tells Sirius in passing a couple of days later, absolutely unable to help himself. 

If Moony questions it, he’ll just explain that portraits have fleeting memories, and he absolutely does not recall making such a promise. All’s fair in love and war and all that, right?

“What?!”

Sirius halts in front of the portrait, whipping his head around in shock at Prongs.

“Mhm. Somewhere in Diagon Alley.”

“He hasn’t said anything to me about that.” Sirius frowns, wondering why in Merlin’s name Moony would keep something like this from him.

“When Prewett dropped him off the other night, he said they’d go see the flat together. Prewett mentioned something about it being available in a couple of weeks.”

So, that’s it, Sirius thinks to himself. They’re that in love that they’re moving in together?! 

He really wants to believe that’s not the case, but he’s seen them around each other these past few weeks. He’d be delusional if he genuinely thought he had a chance with Remus. Of course, he’s going to go for someone like Fabian. Calm, attentive, great with kids, makes rational, sound decisions, and listens to Remus rather than overloading him with all his problems and worries. 

As deep as the hurt is, knowing that Remus is with someone else, Sirius is angry, too. He knows things have been awkward between them since Remus walked in on him - and he’s tried not to think about that and how he wished it had gone a bit differently - but does he really mean so little to Remus that he couldn’t tell him he’s moving in with his boyfriend?

Over the next week, things between Remus and Sirius go from stiff to icy. They’re barely around each other, with Remus seeming to have picked up more shifts at work and Sirius forcing Regulus to join him and Harry on as many outings as he possibly can. 

They take Harry on his first visit to Zonko’s, buying way too many products that Harry is way too young to actually use, as well as the Royal Observatory, as Regulus insisted Harry learn about the stars as early as possible. 

When Remus and Sirius are finally both home for dinner, they use Harry as a buffer. Their conversations revolve around the new faces he’s making, the things he does that remind them of either James or Lily and how his new favourite activity seems to be repeating everything they say.

Though things seemed a tad back to normal during their meal, Sirius was surprised to see that Remus hadn’t disappeared after he finished putting Harry down for the night. 

Instead, he’s sitting on the settee, bottle of firewhiskey in hand, like old times. 

Sirius accepts the peace offering, but something about sitting next to Remus like nothing’s amiss rubs him the wrong way, and after one sip of the liquor, he can’t help but blurt out, “So, when are you going to move in with Prewett?”

“What?” 

Remus places down his glass, looking genuinely confused by the question. This just peeves Sirius off more. 

“I mean, living in Diagon Alley? What more could you want?” 

Remus automatically registers Sirius’ fake, upbeat tone as a dig, and scoffing, he turns away. “If you wanted me to move out, why didn’t you just say?”

“Don’t do that,” Sirius admonishes, rolling his eyes.

“Do what, exactly?”

“Act like you’re a burden and like I don’t want you around when all I’m doing is asking you a question!”

“Well, I wouldn’t think you considered me a burden if you weren’t acting as if I was a burden!”

“Oh, come off it, Moony. You know I don’t think that! I’d let you stay here forever if you wanted.”

“Then why are you asking me when I’m moving in with Fabian?” Remus asks, throwing his hands up in confusion.

“Because James said you were looking at flats together!”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake! I was helping Fabian look for a flat. He’s been kipping at the Burrow since Gideon passed. They lived together, and now he wants a new place to live. Without all the memories.”

“But you’re going to move in with him at some point, right?”

“Are you seriously in that much of a hurry for me to leave?”

“Godric, Moony, no! I just- he’s your boyfriend. That’s what happens, right? You start dating and fall in love and move in wit-” 

“We broke up.”

Sirius attempted to finish his sentence, but Remus’ words finally registered.

“What? Oh…. Moony, why didn’t you tell me, you prat?!”

“Well, it happened on the night I walked in on you… you know,” Sirius gets momentarily distracted by the blush that blooms across the high points of Remus’ cheeks. “And, I don’t know, you’ve seemed cross with me ever since. No time has really felt right to bring it up.”

“I was, cross with you, I guess. I thought you were moving in with him and not telling me.”

“Sirius, we’d only been dating for a few weeks. You really thought I’d move in with him after that long and not tell you about it?” 

“I don’t know! Wait… But then why were you still helping him look for a flat?!”

“Sirius, we’re mates. Just because it didn’t work out doesn’t mean we can’t still spend time together as friends. He wanted a second opinion. I think it’s been hard for him to adjust without having his brother around anymore. Surely we can both understand what that’s like?”

Sirius grumbles something unintelligible, knowing he’s being immature but still wishing they could stop talking about Fabian Fucking Prewett already.

“What was that?”

“I just think he shouldn’t take advantage of you like that! He can look at the flat on his own, can’t he?”

“Why are you being like this? I thought you liked Fabian?”

“I have been perfectly nice to him!”

“Sirius, come off it. I’ve seen you act nicer to Slytherins.”

“Regulus doesn’t count.” At Remus’ glare, Sirius acquiesces. “Fine. I don’t know why I’ve been acting like this. It’s just…”

"Are you... jealous?"

Sirius' eyes widen at having been caught, and Remus leans over to place his hand over Sirius’, whispering, “You can tell me, you know.”

“Fine! Yes! I couldn’t stand seeing the two of you together, okay?”

Sirius rips his hand out from under Remus’ warm grip before he yanks himself off the settee, pacing in front of the fireplace. He can’t believe he just said that. Merlin, Moony’s going to hate him.

“...What?”

“Godric, Moony. It’s been torture. I hate seeing you two together. I didn’t know if I should tell you - how you’d react, but I hated it. Please don’t hate me.”

“Sirius, I could never hate you. I just- I didn’t know you felt like this.”

“Well, now you do.” He turns, finally meeting Remus’ eye, waiting for him to say something.

“I mean, if you had told me you fancied Fabian, I would’ve never agreed to go out with him.”

“What?! Moony, you idiot, I’m talking about you. You’re the one I can’t stop thinking about. I couldn’t stand seeing you two together because I wanted it to be us holding hands, going on dates, and kissing. Not Fabian! Merlin, I love yo-”

Before he can finish that statement, Remus’ arms circle around his waist and his lips capture Sirius’ in the most passionate kiss he’s ever experienced. It feels right, Moony pressed against him like this.

Sirius throws his arms around his neck, deepening the kiss before Remus pulls back enough to sigh, “Do you mean that?”

“‘Course, Moony. I’m crazy about you. Can’t you see that?”

Before he can answer, Sirius presses their lips together again, sliding one hand through Remus’ soft waves while the other grips his waist, hoping to never let go. 

He’s not sure how long they stand there, snogging in their living room before a familiar voice calls out from down the hallway.

“Yes! Finally! Godric, I thought I’d have to pay Reg to just lock you both in a bedroom until you had your way with each other, for Merlin’s sake.”

“Oh my god,” Remus whispers, pulling away from Sirius. His head turns towards the blasted portrait, but Sirius whines, sliding his lips along Moony’s chin, trying to get Remus’ attention back on him. He’s finally got Remus in his arms, and he is not going to let Prongs fuck it up.

“Hey! Aren’t you going to thank your best mate for helping you two finally see reason?”

“What in Merlin’s name is he going on about now?” Sirius whispered against Remus’ lips. 

“Oh, don’t you know? He’s the one that pretended Harry was hurt so I’d run into the room half-naked. Then, he told Fabian I fancied him, and he should ask me out,” At that, Sirius gasps, not believing Prongs, James, his brother, would hurt him like that. “And the other night, he told me you wanted to talk to me when I walked in on you…”

Sirius will circle back to Moony’s adorable blush once he finishes yelling at James because Merlin if it isn’t one of the prettiest sights he’s ever seen. 

“Prongs! Did you prank us?”

Sirius stalks off down the hallway, but he can’t seem to let go of Remus just yet. Linking their fingers together, he drags Moony along behind him to confront their mate.

“Is this why you told me I should ask Moony to move in with me? I should have known you were up to something.”

“I think what I’m hearing is, ‘Thank you, Prongs, for helping us see the error in our ways and realising we are hopelessly and madly in love with each other.’ And to that, I would say, ‘You’re welcome!’”

“Honestly, how often did you talk to this thing?! There’s no way a normal portrait could be this maddening.”

“All. The. Time.” Lily sighs.

“Think we could use him for firewood?” Sirius ponders, tapping his chin in thought.

“Oi!”

“Nah, I think we should keep him around a bit longer. For Harry’s sake.”

“You two would obviously be lost without me. You love me, really.”

“Yeah. We do.” Remus agrees, and the three Marauders smile softly at each other, James staring at his best mates finally in each other’s arms after all this time. 

“I would just like the record to reflect that I had nothing to do with this.”

“Oh, there’s no way in hell I believe that, Ginger,” Sirius scoffs, turning to raise an eyebrow at Lily’s smirking figure. “No way is Prongs smart enough to pull this off on his own.” 

Later, when Sirius drags Remus up the stairs to his bedroom, James leans over to Lily and whispers, “I think our work here is done.”

[shera-dnd]

It's here! The fic where I finally keep my promise and TRANS EVERY LAST SCHNEE!

A little post canon fic where all our wonderful Schnees get together to celebrate their wonderful family

And trans one last gender while they're at it

Hope y'all enjoy some wholesome family fun

Music filled the rooms of the Schnee Household one afternoon, as it had many times. Its single permanent resident sang along as she cleaned the house, two things that little under a decade ago would seem impossible to her.

Back when she lived in a prison in the skies, instead of a house. Married to her own jailer, helplessly watching as her family fell apart bit by lonely bit.

Since then she had lost her son twice, watched her city fall, witnessed the apocalypse, and lived to tell the tale.

All that fear and grief had made her realize just how much of her life she had wasted, and thanks to her children she had managed to take hold of what was left of it.

Now Willow Schnee tried to live a life without regret, one where she treasured each day and spent her time in pursuit of joy instead of numbness.

So yes, she cleaned now, and sang, and cared for her home and her family.

Sure, the manor where she had spent her childhood was now buried under several tons of rubble. But they had a new place now, one that was smaller, cozier, more of a proper home.

Though Willow had to admit she wished she could have saved some of the old family portraits. Her father would have berated her if she even considered saving a portrait of him over saving herself and her children, but she couldn’t help but miss the comfort of that old man watching over her, or her mother’s tender smile.

Well, moving forward was the Schnee way after all. It was always best to create something new, than to wallow on something lost, and today her family would be creating something truly special.

The first proper portrait of their new family, where they all get to look happy as their true genuine selves.

Willow couldn’t help but giggle as she remembered how her children used to be, all so repressed, so miserable. All it took was one of them breaking free from their father’s mold and soon the others followed suit.

Oh and what wonderful people they grew up to be now that they could pursue their happiness. She could almost be jealous if she wasn’t busy being proud of them.

It had been so long since she last had them all together at home like this, and she was certain she would not make it through the day without crying.

Willow had barely finished cleaning for the day when she heard the first knock on the door. 

When she opened it she was greeted by the sight of her eldest daughter and her lovely wife.

“Hey, Miss Schnee,” May Marigold called with a carefree smile, “hope we didn’t arrive too soon. You know how your daughter is with this stuff.”

“Oh come here, dear,” Willow greeted, pulling her into a hug, “don’t you worry about it. You come right in and make yourself comfortable.”

Meanwhile Winter hadn’t said anything, or moved from her spot behind May, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with her mother.

Winter had been the most difficult to understand among her children. 

It all sounded so convoluted and contradictory to her at first, but in the end it was quite simple. Winter still saw herself as a woman, even if she preferred to present as a man. And if it made her daughter happy, who was Willow to judge her identity, or what she did with her looks?

And the woman in front of her looked as handsome as ever in her brand new Happy Huntress outfit - or Happy Huntsman as she had been nicknamed. Her chest had been flattened with a binder, and her suit had been tailored to emphasize her shoulders in a way that fit perfectly with her strong personality.

These had all been things Willow had seen before, but what she hadn’t expected, and what was causing her daughter’s embarrassment, was the buzzcut Winter was now awkwardly scratching.

“Hey, mom,” Winter called as if she was somehow a teenager again.

Willow chuckled, and pulled her daughter into arms, “it looks great on you, sweetie.”

“Thanks…” she answered, putting her arms around her mother stiffly, “...I hope you don’t mind me looking like this for the portrait.”

“If you’re happy with it, then it’s perfect,” Willow assured her, letting her daughter go.

As the two of them walked into the house and made their way into the living room, Willow could hear May mutter, “I told you it would be fine.”

Willow chuckled to herself, her daughters always worried over such silly things.

Speaking of, it wasn’t too long before her youngest arrived.

Whitney was still wearing her office clothes when she arrived. A nice white suit and black pencil skirt all detailed with elaborate snowflake patterns. Her hair was tied in a neat side braid that fell over her shoulder.

“Good evening, mother,” she greeted, leaning down to kiss her mom on the cheek. Whitney had always been tall, but in her heels she was easily taller than everyone else in the family. “Sorry I’m late. I got into another argument with Councilwoman Hill, and you know how she can get.”

Councilwoman. 

Her little girl was so young, and she was already part of the New Mantle council. 

Willow could not be prouder of her.

Now, if only she could go a day without arguing with her sister’s boss.

“There’s still plenty of time,” Willow assured her, “your brother hasn’t even arrived yet.”

“Of course he hasn’t,” Whitney rolled her eyes as she walked in, “I’ll be surprised if he isn’t late for his own wedding.”

“Don’t be so mean to him,” she playfully berated, “he’s a busy man.”

“Busy?” Whitney scoffed, “he saves the world once, and now he thinks we should all do things on his time.”

“Come on, you know he’s not like that,” Willow insisted. 

Besides, it had been his fiancee who had saved the world.

“I know, it’s just that–” whatever thought Whitney had was completely lost as she stepped into the living room and caught sight of her sister, “did you lose a bet?”

May burst out laughing at the comment, but Winter just glared up at her.

“Nice seeing you too, Whitney.”

“Ah, yes. Nice seeing you, sister,” she replied, before turning to May, “did you talk her into this?”

“Nope,” May answered, still chuckling a little, “she did this of her own free will.”

“Really!?” 

“Are you two done mocking me now?” Winter asked, arms crossed as she glared daggers at them.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. You look stunning with that haircut,” Whitney said, raising her hands in a surrender, “it’s just that it’s such a radical change for you. I remember it took us weeks to get you to even try out a binder.”

“And it took her weeks to psych herself up for this,” May clarified, “honestly if it weren’t for this whole portrait thing she would have probably mulled over this for another month.”

This did nothing to help Winter’s mood, who just turned to her mother to say, “that’s why I don’t let those two into the same room anymore.”

“Oh come now,” Willow waved her off, “this is just how they show affection and you know it.”

Winter just huffed in annoyance and looked away.

“And you love them too, don’t pretend” Willow teased.

“Unfortunately,” Winter grumbled.

Also unfortunate was the fact that May had heard her say so, because she casually hooked her arm around Winter and joked, “I mean, you married me, so I sure hope you do.”

This prompted laughter from both Whitney and Willow, much to Winter’s dismay. 

Thankfully there was another knock on the door, and Winter promptly offered to go and get it, if only to buy herself a small reprieve from her family’s nonsense.

There was no question as to who it was at the door, after all there was only one couple left to arrive.

“It looks great on you,” Willow heard her son’s voice in the hallways, “I swear. You look much better than me with short hair.”

“Well, I think you looked really handsome with that buzz cut,” his fiancee argued.

“You think everything looks handsome on me,” he argued with a chuckle.

“And I’m always right,” she countered.

And that’s when Willow saw them. Her sweet little boy and his wife to be.

Weiss and Ruby.

“Listen to your fiancee, dear,” Willow called as he entered the room.

Weiss smiled as he looked at her, “I always do, mom.”

He had grown so much. Not so much in height as his boots would lead one to believe, but he had still grown. Older, wiser, and definitely stronger than the repressed little boy that had left his family home all those years ago.

Weiss’s hair had been shaved on the sides, and tied in a messy ponytail. His face now sported a well kept stubble, and he wore a beautiful blue jacket with white and red accents, perfectly pairing with his fiancee.

For her part Ruby was wearing a corset and long combat skirt in beautiful blacks and reds, but still sporting Weiss’s signature white. Her hair had grown much longer and curlier than when Willow last saw her, with a loose strand brushed over her scarred eye.

Side by side like this they looked like the perfect pair. Like they were meant to be together. And the way they acted around each other they felt like they were too.

“Ms. Willow,” Ruby called, nearly throwing herself into Willow’s arms, “it’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, sweetie,” Willow answered, hugging her back, before turning to her son and extending an arm, “you come here too.”

Weiss did not complain, stepping into his mother’s arms and joining in the group hug.

“I missed you two,” Willow whispered to the two of them.

“I missed you too, mom,” Weiss replied.

Even nowadays, after everything they had done, her boy still spent so much of his life traveling the world and fighting evil. He was a huntsman, after all, it was to be expected. But it still meant she had to go so long without seeing him.

She pulled away from the hug and smiled at the two of them with pride.

“Alright, we can do sappy family stuff later,” Whitney interjected, “let’s get this portrait done while the lighting is still good.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Willow laughed softly, before more pointedly adding to Weiss, “and you button up that shirt, young man. I don’t want my son to be immortalized as a fuckboy.”

Weiss gasped, and Winter groaned.

“We really shouldn’t have let May teach you that word.”

With more than a little embarrassment, Weiss went about following his mom’s request. 

He had always enjoyed showing off his chest since he had figured out who he was, but as much as Willow supported him most of the time, that was simply not the look she wanted decorating their home for generations to come.

Soon the six of them were shuffling around the room, trying to find a good position in front of the camera, so everyone would get to be in frame. 

It was awkward, and there was more than a little elbowing between the siblings, but soon they had found a satisfying pose.

They were just about ready to set up the camera timer when Weiss interjected, “wait! I almost forgot.”

He extended his hand forward and a glyph formed in front of them. From it emerged a familiar frame clad in white armor.

“I know it’s not really him,” Weiss explained, “but I thought we should include grandpa Nicholas.”

Willow looked up at the white knight before her, like she had done so many times as a child.

“Yes, I think we should.”

~~~

Properly taking the portrait had resulted in a deluge of tears, mostly from Willow, though some from Whitney as well. 

But for once they were all happy tears. A feeling of accomplishment washing over the two Schnee women as they realized their dreams had finally come to pass.

Once the tears seemed to stop, and they had all settled down, came time for dinner. 

Though all five of them had offered to help her in the kitchen, Willow was more than happy to cook alone, just actually playing the role of mother for once while she listened to her family chatter about.

“I can’t believe you two managed to be so gay you looped back around to looking straight again,” Whitney joked as she looked over the portrait.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Weiss demanded.

“I’m saying that if someone who didn’t know us saw this picture they’d assume I had two straight brothers with two straight wives,” Whitney insisted.

“I take offense to that!” Ruby shouted.

“Don’t listen to her,” May interjected, “she’s just mad she’s the only Schneebling without a partner in the picture.”

Whitney scoffed, “I’ll have you know I’m quite happy being single,” there was a beat of silence before she added, “besides the last cute boy I tried to make things work with happened to share his body with the soul of an ancient wizard, and I’m not dealing with any of that.”

They all laughed together at this little bit of absurdity. 

All except Winter, who seemed deep in thought.

“Is it weird…” she eventually said, “that I kinda like the idea of being mistaken for a man even if I don’t like the idea of being a man?”

“Not in this family it’s not,” May argued, “we’re all different flavors of gender fucked weirdos.”

That had something Willow kept catching herself thinking about.

How none of her children turned out to be quite the way she expected.

It had all started with Weiss back when he had first been allowed to explore just who he was. Then it began to spread through the family, each of them stopping to think about what that meant for all of them. If they too were just playing a role, and if maybe there was something else they could be.

One by one they broke free from their father’s shackles, and grew up to be the wonderful people they are now.

It made Willow proud, but there was still another feeling it caused in her.

“I’ve always been jealous of you three,” Willow admitted apropos of nothing.

It was as if a record had been scratched. 

All in the room turned to look at Willow in surprise at what she had just said.

“Oh, you know, getting to explore your identity and all that,” Willow tried to justify herself, “Nicholas had always been a kind, accepting man, but… well it’s not like I even knew there were options back then.”

“Uh, Miss Willow,” Ruby called, “you do know there’s no age limit on that stuff, right?”

“Oh I know, dear,” Willow assured her, “I just thought it would have been nicer to have a chance to do it back when I was younger.”

Ruby and Weiss shared a look, before Weiss added, “mom, have you been questioning that stuff lately?”

“Only the normal amount after watching all my children go through the same process,” she insisted, though that only prompted more stares, “what? Did I say something wrong?”

“The normal amount?” Whitney asked, one eyebrow raised.

“I mean, it’s only natural after seeing all three of you come out as some flavor of trans,” she argued.

“I guess you’re right,” Whitney surrendered, though her eyes were still narrowed, “...did you find anything out?”

Honestly Willow did not understand why they were treating this like some kind of interrogation all of a sudden, but it’s not like she had any reason not to answer.

“At first I even considered I might be similar to your brother, but I don’t think I ever felt as strongly about my gender as he did,” she admitted, thinking back to her childhood,  “I’ve had my moments growing up of fancying a nice suit, or wishing people would call me sir, but they had always been fleeting things. One week I’d be jealous of my father’s beard, and the next just thinking of beards made me itchy and uncomfortable.”

Willow laughed at that one, she remembered asking Nicholas when she’d grow a big beard like his. 

What a silly child she was…

“Still, that’s hardly enough to justify any drastic rethinking of my identity, right?” Willow shrugged, “I guess everyone has these little flights of fancy.”

Once again there was silence in the room. 

The five of them looked between each other as if waiting for one of them to take the initiative.

“Uh, ma’am,” May was the first to break the silence, “have you considered you might be gender fluid?”

“If this is an alcohol joke, it’s in very poor taste,” she shot back.

“No, I mean…” May opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to find the right words, “like maybe your gender changes over time?”

Willow blinked a few times.

Like her gender changes over time?

That was… odd. 

She was pretty sure one’s gender was one of those things that was set in stone. 

That’s how it had been explained to her at least. 

Weiss hadn’t become a boy, he had always been one. That had always been his gender, they just hadn’t known about it until then.

“That’s… not how that works, right?” Willow asked, not fully sure she was understanding this correctly.

There were some non-committal noises coming from May before Winter interrupted.

“Gender is a lot more complicated than you think, mom,” she spoke with the tired tone of someone who learned that from experience.

That was… something to think about. 

For now all she managed to say was, “Huh.”

That got a giggle out of Whitney, who just blurted out the words, “I can’t believe there’s not a single cis person in this family.”

[ronalddweissphotography]

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